Iron Fic: the first Order of the Phoenix
by The Chairman
Summary: Contestants were given 24 hours to write 1500 words using the first Order of the Phoenix as the secret ingredient.
1. Fabian Prewett's Watch

Fabian Prewett's Watch

_A/N: Written for the Teachers' Lounge Iron Fic competition. The secret ingredient was The First Order of the Phoenix._

The house was nondescript; that was it's attraction to them. It didn't stick out in any way, instead it simply blended into the surroundings, looking nothing so much like a very ordinary house in a very ordinary Muggle neighborhood in Leicester. There was no Floo, the wards were set to disorient any owl in a five block radius and no one, not even their sister, knew their address. That didn't make it any easier for them, though.

"Fabian, you left your boots in the bathroom again." Gideon Prewett walked over to the kitchen table and dropped the boots with a thump next to his brother's bowl.

"Gid, I'm tryin' to eat here." He picked up the boots and let them fall on the floor. "What would Mum say?"

"She'd tell you to pick up your stuff, like always." Fabian sat down next to his brother, pulled over a bowl and poured in the cereal. "And what's with this Muggle stuff?"

"Live like one, eat like one."

"Well, pass the milk. I'm going on shift soon."

Fabian slid the milk container over to his brother. "What are you doing today? More of Dumbledore's errands? He need a few more quills?"

"Lay off him, will ya? Not my fault you're in the doghouse. What was this one's name?"

Fabian glanced at his brother and returned to his breakfast. "Not saying."

"Not saying or don't know?" Gideon swirled his spoon around the bowl for a bit. "Couldn't be worse timing."

As the spoon came to rest in the bowl Fabian stared at his brother. "So what, we're just supposed to put everything on hold? Just give up on life until that arsehole is gone? The Potters didn't. Neither did Frank and Alice. I deserve a life too, you know."

Gideon reached over and pulled Fabian's bowl across the table and bent his head down low over the contents. After a few loud sniffs he slid the bowl back to his brother. "Nobody had a slash in there, so what's got your broom in a knot?"

"Lay off. Eat your damn breakfast and go shag Snape or something."

"Right. Great. Thanks. I'm going on shift for I don't know how long and now you've put me right off my breakfast. You're a peach, Fabe, how am I supposed to eat thinking about...that. You're a real twat sometimes, you know."

"Fuck off."

Gideon shook his head and stood up. "I'll get something down at the caf." He pulled his robe off of the back of the chair, stuffed it in a bag looked back at his brother. "We can have a life, but until he's gone it won't be much of one. Think about that."

Two days later Fabian sat in the back storage room of some Muggle business near Swingate. They'd all received the coded message to arrive, some sort of strategy meeting apparently. More of Dumbledore's twaddle. As the 'great old wizard' went on and on about something Fabian looked around the room. Moody was Moody, doing his best gloom and doom bit and yelling 'constant vigilance' ever now and then. Tosser. Letting his eyes move he saw the Potters. Nice kids, but totally over the moon on each other and somewhat sickening to look at, if he was honest. The Longbottoms were just about as bad, but they kept it hid from almost everyone; Auror training, he supposed. Sirius Black and Remus Lupin sat over by Minerva McGonagall, a map on the table in front of them. As always that slimy git Snape sat over in the corner, a bit away from everyone. Dumbledore trusted him, but not too many other people did. Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater.

"I need a pint." Edgar Bones leaned over and nudged Fabian. "You up?"

"I'm in." Fabian nodded.

"What about your brother?"

Fabian shrugged and then leaned over to Gideon. "Pint with Bones after?"

"Shhhh." Gideon glanced at his brother for a second in irritation, but the hint of a smile formed at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah."

The rest of the meeting went by exactly like all the others. Snape had no new information, they'd split up the shifts so that the Order members would cover different territory to avoid falling into a habit, and the next meeting would be called in the same way as before. As people staggered their exits to avoid notice the Prewett brothers hung back, letting others go first. Eventually it was just them, Bones and...her.

Fabian looked over to Edgar and his brother. "Listen, you two go on ahead. I'll be there shortly. Cock and Sparrow, right?" He looked at his watch. "Tell you what, I'll meet you there in an hour. I'll Apparate around for a while, just in case."

"Suit yourself." Edgar clapped him on the back. "You'll owe us a round for waiting." He turned to Gideon. "Come on, lad, can't stay out all night again. Missus is giving me enough grief as it is."

Gideon dramatically tapped his watch. "An hour, Fabe. Don't know why you wear that thing, you never show up anywhere on time."

"I'll be there." Fabian nodded. "One hour."

Bones and Gideon left, and as soon as the door closed, followed by two sharp sounds of Apparition, he turned to her. "Have you thought about what I said?"

She nodded, slowly. "I have. I haven't changed my mind."

"Emmy..."

"_Don't_ call me that. Not now." Her tone was icy. "We can't, Fabian. Not now."

"But when, _Emmaline_?" He took a couple of steps towards her, hands wide, pleading. "It might be months, years even. You're going to wait that long?"

Emmaline Vance took a steadying breath. She'd been over it in her mind so many times, all of the reasons why it couldn't happen. Voldemort was reigning death and destruction indiscriminately, all was in flux. The fact that she found Fabian Prewett intoxicating was...unfortunate. Unfortunate timing. Hideous timing. But then she remembered when they'd been paired together on long, tedious shifts and had begun talking. He was charming, if you saw through the veneer of calculated mischief he liked to assume. It was something that had just happened. Things happened during a war. That was it, yes. It was a war time fling, nothing more.

"Perhaps it is better if we don't wait, Fabian." She clasped her hands together. "I think it best."

"Perfect!" He clapped his hands together. "Then you agree with me."

"No, Fabian. You don't understand. I think it's best if we don't wait for each other."

"Oh." His features calmed into an almost motionless mask. "I see."

She nodded several times, to convince herself that the decision was the right one. "I'll go first. You have to meet them for a drink, right?" She started to walk away when she felt his hand reach out and take hers. "Fabian."

"One last kiss, and then I'll go. If you can kiss me, and I can tell it's over, then I won't say another word."

As soon as his lips touched hers she knew that whatever her head held the heart said something different. When they broke apart she looked in his eyes. "We have less than an hour."

Sirius Black sat in the little kitchen somewhere in Chelmsford, smirking. He elbowed his best mate. "Look over there. Fabian Prewett."

James Potter adjusted his glasses. "Ok, I see him. What am I looking for?"

"Watch his eyes. See if you pick up on it."

After a few moments James had to stifle a snort. "Really, him and Emmaline Vance? How'd you come up with that one?"

"Oh, he's got that look, Prongs. You know the one, you see it in the mirror every morning. It's the 'I'm giddy because I'm getting shagged' look. Plus he keeps stealing glances at her."

"Maybe he just fancies her."

"Not likely. Look at her."

Without moving James let his eyes move along until he saw Emmaline briefly lift up her arm, pretending to scratch her hand. One finger tapped her watch for a few moments and then she returned her attention to Dumbledore as if nothing had happened.

Sirius tilted his head towards James. "He doesn't have his watch on, must have left it at her place. Five Galleons she's got it in her pocket."

"You're on."

After the meeting ended James slipped off his watch, put it in his pocket and made his way over to the food Dorcas Meadows had provided. Once he'd fixed a plate he meandered over towards the Prewett brothers, glancing once at Sirius standing with a drink close by Emmaline. After taking a bite he looked over to the brothers. "Some meeting, at least we get some food out of the deal. Say, do you know what time it is? Can't find my watch."

Gideon shifted his plate to his right hand and took a look at his wrist. "Half nine."

James didn't bother looking at Fabian; instead he nodded at Gideon. "Thanks, Gid. Say, that's some watch you got there. Makes me miss mine. Hope I didn't lose it."

"Be lost without mine." Gideon held his wrist up and adjusted the band. "Mum and Dad got us matching ones when we turned seventeen. Always get us the same thing, don't they Fabian?"

"Yep." Fabian nodded and sat his plate on the nearby table. "Sorry, gents, need the loo."

James didn't bother to watch Fabian, as it would look odd, so he left the rest of it up to Sirius. Instead he and Gideon chatted for a bit, mostly about the different shifts they had to take and some ways to make the disillusionment charm stick a little longer, but when enough time had gone by he excused himself and made his way back over to Sirius.

"Mission accomplished, Prongs." Sirius leaned against the wall and took a sip of butterbeer. "They should know better than to try and get one over on the Marauders."

"She didn't give it to him, did she?"

"No, nothing like that. She made her way over, pretending to just be passing by, and I watched her try to slip something into his robe pocket. Benjy Fenwick got in the way, though, so she couldn't do it. But then, this is too good, she mentioned accidentally stepping on something on her last shift. Maybe she broke it."

"So you don't know if she gave it to him or not. Mission not accomplished, then." He looked across the room and nodded. "That's a mystery for next time, Padfoot. Lily's doing that thing with her eyes. No, not _that_ thing, you git. Gotta go. And you owe me five Galleons."

_2022_

_12 Grimmauld Place_

James Sirius Potter woke up and stretched, breathing deeply. After laughing he swung his legs out of bed, reached over and took his wand off of the nightstand and _Accioed_ his dressing gown off of the hook. He was seventeen! No more magic restrictions!

As he made his way downstairs he could smell breakfast, all of his favourites, especially bacon.

"Happy birthday, Jamie." His mum engulfed him in a hug and then held him at arm's length. "I still can't believe you're seventeen."

"Stop it, mum. Can I get breakfast?"

"Go ahead."

She waved him towards the table, smiled as he graciously accepted the plate from Kreacher, and made her way into her husband's office. Harry sat at his desk in his boxers and an old t-shirt, a rag in his hand, polishing his watch. He didn't hear her enter so she went behind him and put her arms around him, nestling her chin on his shoulders.

"He's up, then?"

Ginny nodded. "He is. Eating." She paused for a moment. "Are you sure about this?"

"I am." He continued to polish Fabian Prewett's watch for a few moments and then stopped and held the watch out. "Do you think he'll understand what this means?"

"I think he'll love it because it was yours, love." She kissed his cheek. "But wait a few years before you tell him the story."

"I don't know." Harry sighed. "Maybe if I tell him now he'll appreciate it even more."

"And maybe it'll push him in a certain direction. You know he's been dating Miranda for a year now. He just turned seventeen, Harry. I'm not ready for that yet."

"Don't worry, we've already had that talk." Harry was silent for a while. "Do you think your mum knew what she was doing when she gave me this watch?"

"No, I don't think she meant anything more than she wanted to give you the traditional gift on your birthday. She's always thought of you as family, Harry, even before we were married. I think she's tried to forget about everything else."

"It's just so sad, Ginny. I was gobsmacked when your mum told me right after we got back from our honeymoon. I...I don't know if she ever told anyone how she got the watch. Can you imagine what must have been going through Emmaline Vance's mind? Walking up to the Burrow, after the funeral, and handing Molly this watch? He wanted to marry her, you know, but she wouldn't because of the war. They never had the chance."

"But we have." Ginny took her arms from Harry, stepped around the chair and moved it so she could sit on his lap. "And thanks to people like them we have a son who just turned seventeen. He won't care that it has a dent, just like you never cared. He just knows how much you treasure it, and he'll know what that means."

"That's because I know what this watch represents, love."

"You're right." Ginny kissed the tip of his nose. "Love."

Up in the ether, watching with a smile, Emmaline Vance slid her arm through Fabian Prewett's arm and rested her head on his shoulder.


	2. Hestia Remembers

Hestia Remembers

Nymphadora Tonks was fuming as she walked into the sitting room of 12 Grimmauld Place. Once again, her ideas about taking the war to Voldemort, rather than reacting to his moves, were shot down. Snape had actually laughed. Kingsley and Molly just looked at her pityingly. Even Moody, who always had her back, told her some crap line about "let Albus handle things on his own time."

Tonks half-stomped her way to the chaise, defiantly laid back and put her boots up on the 100-year-old velvet upholstery. Following behind her was Hestia Jones, who watched Tonks's antics, chuckling to herself.

"Pretty rough in there, huh?" she asked.

"Merlin's arse, they just won't stop. If Molly treats me like one of her kids one more time, I'm going to hit her with a jelly-legs jinx. She wants to see a kid? I'll show her kid."

"Budge over, kid," Hestia said with a grin. "You've got it easy compared to what I went through the first time around?"

"Wait – you were in the Order during the war?" Tonks asked. "Were you twelve?"

"No, seventeen, nearly eighteen. Days out of Hogwarts," Hestia said, pushing Tonks's legs out of the way and sitting down. "You have to understand, dear; it was 1981. He-Who-Should-Not-Be Named had been terrorizing the country for over a decade. No one knew which neighbor, or Auror or Minister was siding with the Death Eaters, no one knew where the Death Eaters would target next, no one knew, well, anything. People were dying; lots of people. It was a very frightening time."

"But you were a Gryffindor," Tonks said through a chuckle.

"I suppose I was," answered Hestia. "Seventeen years old, and no more sense in my head than young Weasley upstairs. But I was going to save the world and become an Auror. Top of my class in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Outstandings in Charms and Transfiguration."

"Potions, right?" Tonks asked.

"Actually, no. That was the year before _this_ greasy Dark Lord in training took over as Potions master, so the Auror department was actually still getting recruits."

Severus Snape looked over at the chaise, quietly, but dramatically, stood up and left the sitting room, to the accompaniment of unconcealed snickers from the two witches.

"No," Hestia continued. "It was Herbology. Never could bring myself to care about those bloody plants and whatever it is they're supposed to be good for. Sprout did what she could, but it just wasn't to be. She was kind enough to let me into the NEWT-level classes, but that test, Tonks. That test. I don't know how it was in your year, but back in '81 there was no guessing at all. You either knew your stuff or you didn't. And I didn't. Three days before the exam, Albus approached me…"

_"Miss Jones, please, have a seat," the Headmaster said warmly. "I understand it is your desire to be an Auror."_

_"Yes, sir, it is. I want to make a difference. I'm good with a wand, I am. Top of my class in –"_

_Albus cut her off. "Yes, of course, Miss Jones. I am well aware of your academic and practical prowess. Alas, it seems as though despite your best efforts, your marks in Herbology will prevent you from achieving this admirable goal."_

_Hestia hung her head, burying her face in her hands. She had been studying nearly around the clock since classes had stopped for Fifth and Seventh Year students, and she was no closer to being able to successfully recall the various uses of fluxweed upon demand than she had been in November. She was exhausted, and the rules of decorum for one sitting in front of the Headmaster were, at that moment, also beyond recall._

_"That's pretty much it, sir," she replied, looking up, with tears rolling gently out of each eye._

_"There, there, my dear," Albus said, kindly, conjuring a handkerchief. "There's no need for all that. We all have our Achilles heels, Miss Jones. Mine, I'll have you know, was Arithmancy. For the life of me, I simply could not grasp the difference between that and Divination. One uses numbers, the other, props, and they're both meant to aid the practitioner in predicting the future."_

_"Begging your pardon, sir, but isn't Divination rather a hoax?"_

_"Alas, prophecies are quite real, Miss Jones." Hestia slumped a little in her chair as Albus continued. "Now then, while it seems you shan't be able to become an Auror, I have a proposition for you that will allow you to lend a hand against Voldemort. What I am about to say is top-secret. If you wish not to hear it at all, I will allow you to leave now. If you wish to hear my proposal, I will lock the door. After I am done, I will ask you whether or not you accept. I will need your answer immediately. If you accept, I will give you further instructions. If you do not accept, I will –"_

"Obliviate you, so that you have no recollection of this conversation having ever taken place," Tonks cut in, mimicking Albus's voice. "Yeah, he said the exact same thing to me when I was being recruited."

"Right. So, naturally I accepted. After the school year finished, I took the Express back to London, but the following day I was right back in Hogsmeade. Back then, you see, the Order was housed at what's now the Hog's Head. Well, not exactly. There are rooms underneath the, er, inn, I guess you could call it. Aberforth's cook would make us supper – nice girl, thankless job. Anyway, these rooms were about what you'd expect from the cellar of a place like that. But at the time, I thought it was all brilliant – real cloak-and-dagger stuff. There was a room with a giant map of Britain on a table, and we'd hold meetings there. And there was another room where we'd relax – a couple of dingy couches, and if you weren't able to get a spot on a couch, you sat on the floor. I remember walking down to the basement for that first meeting though. I was so excited. I'd taken my oath in the Headmaster's office the day before, and I'd be doing my part to help bring down, er, that person."

_"Well, would you look who it is, Jamie," Sirius said, as Hestia meekly entered the Order's lounge. "Little Hestia Jones, all grown up. I heard you'd made a bit of a name for yourself in school, love, but here you are. Hey James, remember when we found this one going up and down those stairs, trying to figure out how they moved?"_

_"Yes, you two were very helpful that day, Sirius," Hestia replied. "I never had a problem with those stairs again after that."_

_"Oh, now I remember," James said. "Right. Lils kind of took you under her wing after that, didn't she? So, Albus is taking schoolgirls now, is he? Things must be getting bad."_

_"Is Lily here, then?" Hestia asked, hopefully. "Um, I mean, is she part of the Order?"_

_"Sorry, love, but no," James replied. "She's home with little Harry. We've had a bit of a baby boom around here of late, and that's got Lily and Alice Longbottom both out of commission."_

_"I don't think I know Alice."_

_"Oh, right. Of course. She was a Seventh Year when you were a firstie, and Frank was two years ahead of her. And obviously she wasn't going by Longbottom in those days."_

_"More of a tight, round bottom, if I recall," Sirius interjected, pantomiming cupping a rear end with his hands. "If only she'd married a man named Firmbottom instead. That'd've been a bit more accurate."_

_"Don't mind him," James said, shaking his head. "Our friend Sirius here only ever has one thing on his mind. So, any idea what Dumbledore's going to be having you do?"_

_"Well, I assume I'm here to take down Death Eaters," Hestia replied, mustering as much confidence as she could. James and Sirius began laughing, causing her shoulders to slump and her face to fall._

_"Of course you are," Sirius said through his laughter. "I mean, sure, Whatsisname's faced down a half-dozen Aurors at a time, but if he runs into a Seventh-Year, he'll probably just crumble, wouldn't you say, Jamie?"_

_"Definitely. Seven years of Rictumsempra would turn anyone into a Dark Lord slayer."_

"Ouch," Tonks said. "So, after you trussed them up in a couple of body-binds, and left them hanging by their toes from the ceiling…"

"No, that didn't happen," Hestia replied. "Those were different times, and I was a different girl. I put up with a lot of shite I don't anymore. But, to Dumbledore's credit, he didn't have me sitting around as his steno girl."

"His what?" Tonks asked. Hestia laughed.

"His secretary. He actually had me go on missions with the other Order members. Sometimes, when I went with Marlene and Dorcas, I was part of it. We'd see a group of Muggles being attacked, and we'd bind the Death Eaters up and banish them straight to the Ministry. Other times I was stuck in a corner. The Prewett brothers were the worst with that.

_"Right," Gideon said. "This lot looks bad. Hessie, why don't you let Fab and I head in there, and you guard the door, just in case they have any back-up."_

_"Please stop calling me that, Gideon," Hestia replied. "And sure, I'll guard the door if you want; you're in charge. But there are six of them in there, and two of you. And if they do send back-up there's a crew of them and only one of me. We'll be slaughtered."_

_"No, we won't be," Gideon replied, severely. "They never send back-up. Wait here."_

"And wouldn't you know it, that time there was back-up. Two of 'em. Now I'd suspected for a bit that there was a Death Eater spy at DMLE –"

"But of course, no one would listen to you," Tonks interrupted.

"Pretty much. Dumbledore said he'd look into that, but you know how he is with doing things. But none of the others took that seriously, not even Marlene. So I took matters into my own hands. After I trussed those bastards like a Christmas goose, I knocked 'em out and sliced an X behind their left ear. You see, the, er – the enemy wore these masks that only, er… that only the one who put them on could take off, so we had no idea who we were fighting at any time. I just couldn't believe that, well, that _he_ had recruited so many. Sure as shit, two weeks later we take down two Death Eaters that had my little Xs behind their ears. Turns out that the son of a whore who was supposed to be receiving the prisoners was sending 'em straight back to where they came. I think Crouch had him put down on November 1st. Anyway, Dumbledore still told me I couldn't do that anymore. He said if we stooped to their brutality, then we'd lose sight of the real reason we're fighting. I nearly quit right there."

Tonks shook her head. "Why didn't you? That's a load of hippogriff shite right there. You weren't torturing them; you'd even knocked them out first."

"You know that photograph Moody put on the mantle? We took that at Harry's christening at the Potter's ancestral home in Staffordshire, right by the River Trent. It was the first time the whole gang had been together since the boys were born. As I'd been the least time in the Order, I reckoned it'd be good of me to take it, so that's why I'm not in the picture. But it was right after that that he started going after us, rather than the other way around. He wouldn't go after us while we were on patrol or nothing, just send his Death Eaters to our houses at night to murder us in our sleep. Marlene went first. Then Dorcas. Then Benjy and Edgar and so on. The killing didn't stop after Lily and James, either. Caradoc didn't disappear until the following March. By the beginning of October, the Marauders, Emme, Caradoc and I were the only ones under 40 in the whole Order. And when the killings started, that's when it stopped being fun. That's when they started trusting me, because they had to."

Tonks looked at Hestia, mutely. Her eyes were fourteen years in the past, and a little misty.

"So if they're still laughing at you, love, at least they're still laughing."


End file.
